


Please (Don't) Bite

by Lthien



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Biting, Cannibalism, Dark Will, Eat The Rude, Hannibal Loves Will, Hannibal Season 4, Jealous Hannibal, Le Chiffre alias, M/M, Manipulative Will Graham, Marking, Murder Husbands, Murder Husbands in Cuba, Possessive Hannibal, Will Loves Hannibal, adam raki alias, domestic cannibalism, hannibal buys will nice things, hannibal compliments will in lithuanian, hannibal doesnt want anyone else seeing will in a suit, hannibal has long hair, hannibal loves will in a suit, hannibal punishes will but its not really a punishment huhuhu, hannibal season 4 au, poor dumb OC, will has long hair, will is as sneaky as hannibal is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-15 05:07:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9220046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lthien/pseuds/Lthien
Summary: “That’s rather rude, Will.” Hannibal murmured and caged him in, his hands pressed against polished oak. Will sighed irritably, but not at Hannibal. “It’s not me you should be devouring.” That got Hannibal’s attention and he pulled away again.“Oh? Are we expecting company?” Hannibal asked, his brown eyes twinkling, trying to decipher his partner. Will looked at him mischievously.Where Hannibal is murderously jealous and Will has plans of his own.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Soo...I wrote this earlier but my laptop DELETED it. All 5k words, gone. Poof. Luckily, before I cried, I remembered most of it and typed it down. Im upset though because I lost some really strong sentences and ughhh. I hope this still reads nicely. :s This is my 2nd Hannibal short fic and I LOOOVE them. <3 
> 
> I hope you enjoy it! Leave me a comment? :)

_Kiss me on the mouth and set me free,_  
Sing me like a choir,  
I can be the subject of your dreams,  
Your sickening desire,  
Don't you wanna see a man up close,  
A phoenix in the fire,

_So kiss me on the mouth and set me free,  
But please, don't bite…_

TROYE SIVAN – “Bite”

* * *

 

 “You’re being ridiculous,” Will murmured, his wine glass pressed against his bottom lip. Before him stood Hannibal, his well-used plastic suit covering his expensive Georgio Armani one. His eyes were dark and resentful— _murderous_.

“I hardly think so,” Hannibal hissed and grabbed the bottle of vintage Sangiovese off the table. He poured himself half a glass and downed it in one go. Will watched him over his own glass, the man taking a sip of his own.

“Careful now, this one in particular is a favorite of mine. No need to waste it over something so trifle.” Will said, his voice a tad too joyful. Hannibal’s eyes narrowed but he put his empty glass down nonetheless. Will watched him with a twinkle in his eye, his chin perched on one hand. Perhaps being forced into a monkey-suit—even an expensive one—was well worth it after all. Hannibal was frozen where he stood. Poised, ready to strike. Will sighed and sat down his glass. He stood and walked the short distance over to his cannibal.

Will placed his hands on Hannibal’s shoulders, his fingers silencing the slight crunch of the plastic, his blue eyes enchanting. “Would it really be worth it? Worth this new life?” His hands traced the translucent seam of the suit, his fingers curling around the collar and around Hannibal’s neck. He tugged the back of Hannibal’s bun, long silver hair falling out. Hannibal gulped. Will smiled when he felt hands grab his waist, possessive as they pulled him closer.

“I could rip his throat out,” Hannibal growled, his hands tangling in the fine blue cloth of Will’s jacket.

“‘Could’?” Will asked, one eyebrow raised high. He had done so before, quite literally. He knew he would gladly do so again.

“ _Should_ ,” Hannibal fixed, a small smile tugging his lips despite himself. Will hummed and ran his hands down Hannibal’s suit again, feeling the texture and wondering how much blood had struck it, and if more would be added tonight. It thrilled him in a way, and Hannibal knew that.

Hannibal’s mind, however, lingered on how _Will_ looked. The suit he wore was of the finest cloth he could possibly buy. He had made it for him in secret, needing to see him in something other than his usual plaid shirts, or his Bermuda shorts. It fit him perfectly, Hannibal knowing his measurements as well as his own. Will had told him not to, saying it was not worth the money for just one night at the opera. Will looked gorgeous in it—worthy of any poem.

“Mano gražus vienas,” _My beautiful one_ , Hannibal had told him in Lithuanian, kissing his hand and fingers. “Tavo grožis eina nesuderinta.” _Your beauty goes unmatched._ Will had narrowed his eyes in suspicion, already having told him not to spout poetry. Will did not understand his words, nor did he need too. All he needed to feel was Hannibal’s lips pressed against his neck, and fingers. Feel Hannibal’s hand pressed against his lower back, like a brand— _mine._ It had well been worth the money at the time, and it still was in a way, but it had gained more attention than Hannibal would have liked…

“Your mind is far from me,” Will said, his lips warm against Hannibal’s neck. His teeth scraped down his Adam’s Apple, eliciting a shiver. Will smiled, pleased.

“It is always with you,” Hannibal told him softly. Will blinked at him in surprise, a smile warping his face. 

“What sweet words these lips say,” He murmured, brushing his lip over the swell of Hannibal’s top one. “…Must be the wine.”

“Must be,” Hannibal said before he grabbed Will by the nape and crushed their lips together. Will smiled beneath the kiss, his hands grabbing a fistful of silver hair in delight. He opened his mouth willingly when he felt Hannibal’s tongue pressing against his teeth. He allowed Hannibal to take control, knowing he needed something to ground him.

Will felt Hannibal’s hands palm against the back of his thighs, and he hopped up with trained ease, wrapping his legs around Hannibal’s waist. He let out a laugh when the clear suit crunched loudly beneath his thighs, Hannibal mouthing at his neck like a man possessed. Will gasped when his legs hit the table, Hannibal sitting him upon it.

“What is it?” Hannibal asked, pulling away from Will’s flushed, tanned, neck. Will shrugged, his lips curled into a tight smile so he would not laugh.

“Oh, nothing,” he said with a shake of his curly head, “It’s just that I’m straddling my serial killer, _cannibalistic_ , husband, dressed in his quote, unquote, ‘murder suit,’ and being devoured on a _table_.” Will pulled him closer by his collar. “You feel like a pool float!” Hannibal blinked at him before he burst out laughing, Will following behind him with tears in his eyes. They held onto each other laughing. Will pat the clear suit softly—adoringly, his eyes bright.

“In all my years,” Hannibal laughed, “I never would have thought that is what it would be compared to!”

“And I never thought I would be kissing you in it…Being able to touch it in such an endearing way.” Will slid his hand up Hannibal’s shoulder, his hand watching the thick plastic crinkle under the weight of his fingers, his eyes growing darker.

“How is it?” Hannibal asked huskily, pulling Will in by his waist. He attacked his neck again, his teeth zeroing in on his jugular. Will pushed at him, warning him to not draw blood with the flash of his blue eyes. It would stain his suit. Hannibal smiled. Then bit down.

“A-ah…ow! _Hannibal_!” Will pushed him away and Hannibal obliged with a chuckle. He knew immediately that Will was not angry, not by the heated look in his eye, or the way his teeth were bared. “You toothy bastard!”

“That is true,” Hannibal purred and licked up the blood that trailed down Will’s tan neck, stopping it before it hit his collar. He latched on like it were the best vintage. Will held onto him, feeling as if he were dying, his hands curling in plastic desperately. When Hannibal pulled away he had blood on his mouth, and Will tried his best not to shiver at the intensity in his eyes.

Not letting Hannibal have his way, Will straightened his back and crossed his legs. When he did his pants leg pulled up to reveal his bony ankle. Hannibal grasped onto to it, pressing his thumb against the protruding bone, sliding down his shined shoe. Will remained nonchalant despite the messiness of his curls and flushed face, his arms crossed, looking as beautiful as any statue.

“To think I actually have a gift for you,” Will said, ignoring the trail of blood that threatened to dye his suit a darker color.

“A gift?” Hannibal asked and pressed the flat of his tongue against the wound, stopping it completely. Will closed his eyes but remained otherwise unfazed. Hannibal smiled to himself.

“Yes,” Will said, his blue eyes as brooding as Hannibal’s were not fifteen minutes prior. “It’s rather late though.” Hannibal raised a blonde eyebrow.

 “That’s rather rude, Will.” Hannibal murmured and caged him in, his hands pressed against polished oak. Will sighed irritably, but not at Hannibal. “It’s not _me_ you should be devouring.” That got Hannibal’s attention and he pulled away again.

 “Oh? Are we expecting company?” Hannibal asked, his brown eyes twinkling, trying to decipher his partner. Will looked at him mischievously.

 “In a way,” He said and his smile grew at the growing curiosity in Hannibal’s eyes. Not ten seconds later the door rang. “Ah, I really should get that!” Will said and hopped off the table. Will glared at his husband as he tried to straighten his attire, his hand going to his sore neck. Hannibal merely perched where Will once was, curious as to what Will had in store for him. It was always brilliant.

Will opened the door with a fake smile on his lips. “Ah! Lord Raul de Leon!” Hannibal froze at the name, his blood boiling under his skin. He could see red, and he gnashed his teeth. Will looked at him over his shoulder, his blue eyes a warning. _Not yet_ , they said and Hannibal stopped, his mind racing.

 Was this the gift Will had mentioned? Was he to give him the man who angered him so? The one who _dared_ to touch what was not his? He waited, curious. Whatever the outcome, gift or no, Will would be punished for this.

 “I’m sorry to be late, Senior Raki,” A heavily Cuban voice apologized. His voice grated on Hannibal’s nerves. “The air in my back tires were oddly low so I had to stop and fill them again.” Hannibal smiled then, knowing that this _was_ the gift Will had intended. His brilliant boy.

 “Don’t worry about it,” Will purred, his right arm stretching up the wooden doorframe, his stance becoming contrapposto. He reeked of sensuality, and his suit pulled in every place Hannibal had intended. It _pissed him off_. His hands balled into fists at his sides, trembling.

 “I-I was worried that you didn’t feel the same,” The Lord stuttered rather dumbly, Will twisting him around his little finger easily. “When I grabbed you, you reacted so differently than you are now…I can see that you truly do want—” That was enough. Hannibal snapped when he saw greasy hands inching closer to Will. _His_ Will.

 “Lord Raul de Leon,” Hannibal about growled in greeting. He wrapped a sturdy arm around Will’s waist and pulled the younger man flush against his side. Will about had to catch himself with one hand, his blue eyes smugly naïve. “My husband did not inform me you would be joining us this evening…surely you are here for polite conversation and a quick drink, perhaps?”

 The Lord blinked at him, then looked at Will. It was clear that he had expected Will’s, or _Adam Raki’s_ partner to be somewhere else, with _whoever_ else. Will looked at him innocently.

 “Senior Chiffre!” The Lord said after a split second of silence, awkward. His eyes trailed over the man’s odd garb, his eyebrows furrowing. “Are you expecting rain?” Hannibal’s lips about pulled over his teeth, his canines threatening to show. He forced a smile, his blood racing with anticipation.

 “…Something like that,” Hannibal almost whispered. “Dearest?” He grunted and Will looked at him, his blue eyes as dark as his own, irritation clear—intent clearer. _Kill him._ “How does Cuban sound for dinner?”

 Will smiled. “It sounds delicious.”

 “Dinner? Why it’s almost ten o’clock!” The Lord laughed idiotically, not sensing the tension in the air. Hannibal and Will both looked at him, their true faces suddenly revealed. Will grabbed the Lord by the collar, pulling the shocked man forward and into the mouth of the beast. Hannibal’s delighted smile sliced through the night, as did his knife.

* * *

 

 “Pernil Relleno Mono y Cristiano,” Hannibal announced as he walked into the dining room. He still wore his apron over his suit, a full silver platter in his hands. He put the platter down in the middle of the table, Will breathing in deep through his nose. On the tray lay a large slab of meat wrapped in twine, covered in garlic, oregano, and onion. It looked truly delicious.

 “Pork?” Will asked and leaned over to pour himself a glass of Pinot Noir, eyebrows raised. His collar pulled aside to reveal a trail of bruises and teeth marks—his punishment. Hannibal smiled as he sliced into the meat.

 “It definitely was a pig,” The cannibal said and Will smiled over his glass. Hannibal served him a large piece and topped it off by pouring an orange glaze over it, crumbling more garlic on top. “Marvavilloso,” Hannibal murmured and pressed a kiss against the scar on Will’s forehead, pushing his long hair out of the way to do so.


End file.
